Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason by Helen Fielding.
Title: Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason.
Author: Helen Fielding.
Genre: Fiction, romance, humour, chick lit., epistolary fiction.
Country: U.K.
Language: English.
Publication Date: 1999.
Summary: Bridget Jones is back with a handful of new problems. Her mother has returned from a trip to Kenya with a young Masai in tow--to her father's consternation; her best friends Jude, Shazzer, and Tom are all trapped in dating hell themselves; her apartment is in shambles thanks to a dotty carpenter; an unreliable ex-boyfriend has just reentered her life; and now someone is sending Bridget death threats--could it be Mark Darcy? A very loose modern-day take on Persuasion.
My rating: 6/10
♥ Our table was already filling up with an array of britty confident thirty-something lawyers, bellowing with laughter and trying to outdo each other with the sort of flippant conversational sallies that are obviously tips of huge icebergs of legal and Zeitgeisty knowledge:
"How do you know if you're addicted to the Internet?"
"You realize you don't know the gender of your three beast friends." Haaar Waagh. Harharhar.
"You can't write full stops any more without adding co.uk." BAAAAAAAAAAA!
"You do all your work assignments in HTML Protocol." Blaaaaagh haehar. Braaaah. Hahah.
♥ "The point is you are supposed to vote for the principle of the thing, not the itsy-bitsy detail about this percent and that percent. And it is perfectly obvious that Labour stands for the principle of sharing, kindness, gays, single mothers and Nelson Mandela as opposed to braying bossy men having affairs with everything shag-shag-shag left, right and center and going to the Ritz in Paris then telling all the presenters off on the Today program."
♥ Mark came whizzing up "whooosh fzzzzzzz" and asked me if I was ready to come down now.
Explained in whisper, had made mistake by coming on slope as skiing is v. dangerous sport - so much so that holiday insurance won't even insure it. Is one thing having accident that you could not foresee; quite another willingly putting yourself in an extremely dangerous situation, knowingly dicing with death or maiming, like doing bungee jumping, climbing Everest, letting people shoot apples off head etc.
♥ Maybe Magda is right. Maybe I just assumed that he was chucking me and he didn't mean that at all. Maybe in the car he was just upset about the whole snogging thing and wanted me to say something and now he thinks I am avoiding him!! Am going to ring. That is the trouble with modern (or ex) relationships, there just isn't enough communication.
♥ What is it about modern Singletons that only way they can have a normal relationship is if it isn't supposed to be a relationship? There's Shaz who isn't going out with Simon doing what couples are supposed to do, and me and Mark who are supposed to be going out not seeing each other at all.
"If you ask me people should not say 'just good friends' but 'just going out with each other,'" I said darkly.
"Yup," said Jude. "Maybe the answer is platonic friends combined with a vibrator.
♥ Am marvelous: have been almost like therapist all day. As I said to Jude and Tom, any time day or night they can call me, not just be sad on their own. So you see I am very wise and well balanced almost in manner of the Mother Superior in The Sound of Music. In fact can easily imagine self singing "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" at wall in middle of 192 with Jude kneeling appreciatively behind.
♥ When we reached my flat he climbed out of the Range Rover to let me out, with the babble of "Well! I mean his first wife left him, didn't she?" "Well exactly. No smoke without fire," in the background.
"In darkness the stone becomes the buffalo," Wellington said. "In sunlight all is as it is."
"Thanks," I said gratefully, then stumbled back to the flat wondering if I could turn Rebecca into a buffalo and set her on fire without creating enough smoke to alert Scotland Yard.
♥ Code of Dating Practice
1. If citizens know they do not want to go out with someone else they must not egg them on in the first place.
2. When a man and woman decide they would like to sleep together, if either party knows they just want a 'fling' this should be clearly stated beforehand.
3. If citizens snog or shag other citizens they must not pretend nothing is going on.
4. Citizens must not go out with other citizens for years and years but keep on saying they don't want to get too serious.
5. After sexual relations it is definitely bad manners not to stay the night.
♥ Smug Marriage Promotional Suggestions
1. Teach Men are from Mars, Women Are from Venus in schools so both sides of opposing armies understand each other.
2. Teach all boy children that sharing the houswork does not mean twiddling one fork under the tap.
3. Form giant Governor Matchmaking Agency for Singletons, with strict Code of Dating Practice, Mate-Seekers Allowance for drinks, phone calls, cosmetics etc., penalties for Emotional Fuckwittage and rule that you have to go on at least twelve government-arranged dates before you can declare yourself a Singleton; and only then if have reasonable grounds for rejecting all twelve.
4. If grounds are deemed unreasonable, then you have to declare yourself a Fuckwit.
♥ Yesterday was Constance's birthday party. Arrived about an hour late and made my way through Magda's house, following the sound of screaming into the garden where a scene of unbridled carnage was under way with adults chasing after children, children chasing rabbits and, in the corner, a little fence behind which were two rabbits, a gerbil, an ill-looking sheep and a pot-bellied pig.
♥ Rebecca looked as though she had eaten a tiramisù and only just checked the fat units.
♥ Thank God have got cappuccino to help self through aftermath of hell of buying cappuccino when late. Is bizarre how cappuccino queue thing gives whole areas of London appearance of war- or communism-torn culture with people standing patiently in huge queues for hours as if waiting for bread in Sarajevo while others sweat, roasting and grinding, banging metal things full of gunge around, with steam hissing.
♥ Bloody, bloody, bloody. Have spent all day in changing rooms of Oxford Street trying to squeeze my breasts into bikini tops designed for people with breasts either arranged one on top of the other in the center of their chests or one under each arm, with the harsh downlighting making me look like River Café frittata.
♥ Arrived v. late owing to typical motorway signpost debacle (if war today, better, surely, to confuse Germans by leaving signposts up?).
♥ Very black. All my life I have had the feeling something terrible was about to happen and now it has.
♥ Was completely overcome. Was the best present I had ever had in life.
"Thank you, thank you, I can't thank you enough," I said emotionally, on the verge of flinging my arms round him, and taking him roughly against the bars.
♥ Bloody fucking dog pig black-livered bastard from hell. I hope his face gets put on a porcupine.
♥ Particularly enjoyed, at time, priest-turned-shagging-fuckwit story. Is always so enjoyable when other people behave badly. Feel, however, that founders of support group for victims of shagging priest (because "women who have relationships with priests have no one to turn to") are being rather partisan. What about others who have no one to turn to? Should surely also be support groups for women who have been victims of shagging Tory ministers, members of British national sporting teams who have slept with members of the Royal family, Romans Catholics clergy who have slept with celebrities or members of the Royal family, and celebrities who have slept with members of the public who have confessed their story to members of the Roman Catholic clergy who have then sold the story to the Sunday papers.
♥ "The worst you and Shaz could be accused of was breathtaking stupidity," he said. "You did very well in jail, I heard."
♥ If only could be like Mum and just have confidence in self and not worry what anyone else is thinking, but that is very hard when you know that someone else is thinking about you. They're thinking about how to kill you.
♥ 138 lbs, alcohol units 6, cigarettes 45, calories 5,732, chocolate tree decorations 132, cards sent - Oh, God, hell, beelzebub and all his subpoltergeists.
♥ Harry Christmas to my dearest, dearest Ken. I have so appreciated all your kindness this year. You are a wonderful, wonderful person, so strong, and clear-sighted and good with figures. Although we have had our ups and downs, it is so important not to hold on to resentment if one is to grow. I feel very close to0 you now, both as a professional, and as a man.
With real love,
Bridget.
♥ "What's that strange smell? What in the name of arse is that?"
I followed his gaze. Christmas tree in truth did not look as good as remembered. Had chopped off top and tried to trim rest into traditional triangular shape but now, in middle of room, was tall thin shorn thing with blunt edges like every bad cheap pretend tree from discount store.